Coco's pov
I woke up to birds chirping and the sun shining across the whole room, my head was still heavy from sleep. Kyle and I had somehow ended up stretched across the couch together again, a tangle of blankets. For a moment, I almost didn't want to move.
But after everything with Camilla yesterday, I needed a fresh start.
I showered, changed, and followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen. Kyle was already there, flipping through something on his phone while Kairo stirred a pot of oats on the stove. It was strangely domestic, and my chest ached with how much I wanted mornings like this to last.
"Morning," Kyle said, smiling at me over the rim of his mug. "Sleep okay?"
I nodded. "Better than I have in… a long time."
Kairo smirked, tossing me a wink. "Told you the couch is magic."
We sat down to breakfast, light chatter filling the room. Halfway through, Kyle put his cup down, his gaze fixed on me. "So… Coco," he began, trying for casual but failing at hiding the little spark in his eyes, "how would you feel about… a date? With me. Tonight."
My fork paused midair. A date. With Kyle Carlisle. I blinked, heat rushing to my cheeks. "I'd feel… really good about that," I said softly.
He grinned. "Good. Then that's the plan for today."
Kairo squealed, actually squealed. "Oh, this is my moment. You're not going anywhere until I make you over. Coco, prepare yourself. You're about to become the girl you should've been all along."
I laughed nervously, but I let her tug me upstairs, we first chatted for a while about silly things, and then suddenly, I was pushed into a whirlwind of curling irons, makeup brushes, and clothes I hadn't even known she owned. By the time she finished, I barely recognized myself in the mirror. I was grateful that we kind of have similar style and taste in things.
My hair was glossy, my lips tinted rose, and the dress she'd picked out hugged me in all the right ways without feeling like a costume. I am pretty sure, this is what it feels like to have a stylish sister. Playing dress up and sharing clothes. This is nice, sure it is awkward at first, but it's also nice.
"Perfect," Kairo declared. "He's not going to know what hit him."
And she was right. When Kyle saw me later that evening, his jaw actually dropped.
"You look…" he trailed off, eyes wide. "Wow."
My stomach flipped. "Thanks." I wore this cute red, backless key hole neckline dress that had a corset-like top and flows freely at the bottom with cute black heels. My cleavage popped just right.
He took me to a French restaurant tucked into the city, a place that looked like it had been lifted straight from Paris. The menus were entirely in French, elegant script I remembered so well from childhood dinners overseas.
When the waiter arrived and rattled off a string of French too fast for most, I smiled and answered him fluently, ordering for both Kyle and myself. Luckily he had already told me that he loves the place and always has to have that particular meal when he goes there. The waiter bowed, impressed, and disappeared.
Kyle blinked at me, eyebrows raised. "You speak French as well?"
I shrugged lightly. "Besides the obvious, English, Xhosa, Zulu, Sotho, Afrikaans and Japanese, I also speak Italian. Some Swahili. Some Spanish. A little Mandarin."
His jaw tightened slightly, not in a bad way, but with something close to sadness. "How? I mean… how did you learn all that?"
I looked down at my hands as if to find the answers. "Before my dad died, we lived everywhere. France, Italy, Singapore… you name it, he always said he wanted us to see the world, not just one corner of it. So tutors, private schools, languages, everything came with the lifestyle. It was… normal, then. My dad just wanted me to be cultured and experience the people just as much as the place."
Kyle was quiet, his gaze heavy on me. "And now…?"
I forced a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Now it feels like someone else's life. Like I am pretending. I've had to kind of retreat from everything that was normal for me and become invisible."
His hand brushed mine across the table, steady and grounding. "I hate that it changed for you. What I see is a woman who is just being herself and living as you did before can't be pretend, it's real."
Dinner was beautiful. The food, the laughter, the warmth in his eyes, I felt like I was slipping back into a version of myself I thought I'd lost forever. This moment literally felt like a portal to my past, and it gave me so much comfort and warmth.
When we finished, Kyle leaned back, watching me. "Come with me. Shopping. Just for a little bit. I want you to have a taste of what you've missed. Please."
I hesitated, my stomach knotting. Shopping like that felt… indulgent, dangerous, temporary, like walking into a world I didn't belong in anymore, but he looked so earnest and I didn't want to break his heart.
"Okay," I whispered.
The boutiques were everything I remembered them to be, shiny, expensive, smelling of perfume and polished wood. The staff swarmed Kyle instantly, flirting openly, their eyes flicking to me with thinly veiled disgust.
I shrank into myself, but Kyle's hand slipped into mine, firm and very protective. He didn't let go, not once.
And then, of course, fate played its cruel hand.
"Darling!" an annoying, familiar voice chimed.
I turned, and there she was. Camilla, hair pretentiously perfect, lips red, hand tucked possessively around the arm of a massive famous rugby player whose biceps looked like they could crush granite.
Her eyes landed on me and Kyle, at our intertwined hands. That smile, the kind that promised trouble, spread slowly across her face.
"Well, isn't this cute," she purred.
My stomach dropped.
Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she glided closer, her rugby player shadow trailing behind like a prize she wanted everyone to see.
"Well, Kyle," she said sweetly, her voice pitched just loud enough for the staff around us to hear, "I didn't realize you were slumming it these days."
The staff chuckled politely, like they weren't sure if it was a joke. Heat rose to my cheeks with embarrassment.
Kyle's arm came over my shoulder possessively. "Camilla, don't start. Not today, I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."
She tilted her head, eyes cutting to me like I was invisible. "It's just… surprising. I mean, you used to have standards. Remember Milan? Remember Cartier? You and I always belonged in places like this. And now…"
Her gaze swept over me, dismissive and cruel. "This is who you bring here?" I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
Kyle's voice dropped, firm and sharp. "You don't get to talk to her like that, not when she is actual gold and you… nothing but rust."
Camilla ignored him, her smile widening. "Sweetheart, do you even know how much that dress costs?" she asked me, gesturing to the rack beside us. "I doubt you could even pronounce half the designers in here."
"I don't need to prove anything to you Chameleon." I whispered, my chest burning, but I knew she'd heard.
Camilla laughed, a tinkling, poisonous sound. "Oh, she has a little bite. Cute. Kyle, come on, you know this isn't you. You're not some charity case. You deserve someone who can keep up with you. Someone like me."
The rugby player beside her shifted uncomfortably, glancing between us. Even he seemed embarrassed by her performance.
Kyle's grip on my shoulder never loosened. "Camilla," he said, his voice like stone, "I don't want you. I will never want you again. Stop embarrassing yourself."
Her smile faltered for just a second, then it snapped back into place. "You'll come to your senses," she said softly, almost like a threat. "You always do."
I could see Kyle fume from her words. He approached her, voice low but authoritative. "Why exactly would I do that Camilla? Go back to you? When you have a new man on your bed almost every other day?
Then, with a dramatic turn of her head, she tugged her rugby player along, her perfume lingering like smoke after a fire.
I stood there, heart racing, every eye in the boutique on me. The staff whispered, pretending to tidy displays. I wanted to disappear into the marble floor.
Just then, he turned to look at the staff. "You're all fired. Next time you get a job, make sure you know who you're working for. I will not have such low quality stuff, who thrive on gossip, being a part of any organisation that I am affiliated with." They gasped in shock and looked teary eyed.
Kyle leaned closer to me, his voice only for me. "Don't listen to Camilla. Not a single word. She thrives on making people feel small, but you, you're the last person she'll ever get to break."
I nodded, blinking back the sting in my eyes. I wanted to believe him. I really did, but a small voice in the back of my mind whispered that Camilla wasn't done.
Not by a long shot.